Starving is
I remember how I felt in this town. 

And I feel the importance of power that comes with bones.  





My old man 
Pulled my name from a can 
Shook my mother’s hand
Said it was nice to know ya, mam

My old man
Got spit like whiskey 
He always kiss me
It always gritty

We speak spit spat
But he got my back 
My old man 
Teach me how to act

Mud between my teeth 
And knees that always bleed 
Me and my old man
We stomp through tha country deep

We breakin’ tha laws
Got cawps sharpening their claws
Me and my old man
Know the governments’ flaws

Because it is through tha night 
Where we bring the fright 
Me and my old man
Shoot the piggies with delight

Because we country bum folk
We take society as gods’ joke
Good English, I ain’t neva spoke
My old man is tha best of blokes.

Don’t got much education
‘Cause I don’t trust societies’ demonstration 
Dropped out and hired a whore
My old man say she can teach me much more

My old man 
Pulled my name from a can 
Shook my mother’s hand
Said it was nice to know ya, mam

She wonder why we leave
It ‘cause we ain’t so sweet as she
At night, we roam tha streets
Shoot tha piggies on their knees.


Sweet talkin’. 
That beep boppin’. 
I have contained my mind in dreams.

Street crawlin’. 
That peep sloppin’. 
I enjoy my time underneath the sheets.

They ballin’. 
Tha snark fallen. 
I can’t hear my lady, but she always screams.

Do you keep it clean. 
Have some reason to fiend. 
Some of tha things that I’ve never seen,
Keep me aspiring for tha moon and tha beam.

Kat Kawlin’. 
For tha please nauggin’. 
She would love if she were stoppin’. 
Does anyone hear
Me when I’m callin’.


Patience for gratification is a cold thrilla. 
Falling asleep with paint inside my nose dripping into my veins. 
Calling this empty Boop sweet like vanilla.
Because ya don’t know my name
Don’t know my name.

I’ll tell you this, I danced with a few tonight. 
Chords were strung as I sang along, don’t get me wrong
They buy beers to keep it flowing
Hands on my back, intentions eva present 
To know what a smile does to one brings them into a foolery that I’m aware of but have no intention to be in.

Empty baby
Empty baby
I can dance and sing
But I empty baby

Sleep next to baby doo
Wake up with no one new.

Nose bloody from last week’s endeavor. 
I saw you now
But I know it’s never.


Some evil that we spew on duh streets. 
Threw a lighter at your head, but you still remember me. 
Cops hollering sugar coated slime out their undercova windows. 
It ain’t illegal for me to tell ‘em they dead if it’s what they’re in for. 
Ya scream my name, but I’m slurring in Russian. 
Good good woman knows how to give good good lovin’. 
The sun kiss my neck, but oops I’m boop da loopin’ in tha darkroom. 
It’s only the biggest booty that can make my heart boom. 
“I know what kind of girl you are.”
Damn, but you don’t know the million girls that I used to be. 
If I shave my head, I’ll show you a scar. 
Of what that man did to me. 


I’ve got a romance inside
But it’s lust that is alive
The kitchen floor’s sticky as a snail
It’s only the whores who ever wish me well.

There’s one thing that’s occurring. 
Brings me back to younger yearning. 
If Jo comes back,
I’ll be here to pet her, purring.

Young Little was put to sleep. 
But she now dead, baby bitch was weak. 
I’ll promise to wake up if
You remind me to brush my teeth.

I keep having dreams of
A smashed-in face and hands around my throat. 
But these are only things that 
I have left a long time ago.


G train ded brain

It’s ya mind that turns 
Thoughts black and burned. 
Jo, I feel you’ve returned 
Once again to secure

Tha black out baby wake up pickled and alone. 
Can’t remember the man I wanted to bring home. 
Black out baby,
It’s so sad I’m lazy. 
I give up when I’m dead. 
When I remember my head.

Done wrong too long ago.
But it still gunks up my walk turns my stride down slow.
Can’t wake up can’t get bettah.
Lucid dreams always feel like foreva. 
Black out baby.
Drove myself crazy.
Lived a life too strong too quick.
Gluttonous functions too hard to resist.

Can’t drink because murder starts to swim through my head.
Talk to evil skin, you wind up quick dead.
Wake up with blood on my hands stained deep in my clothes.
Black out baby.
It’s inevitable, I know.


Cocaine for tha weekend 
Oh uh woops muh nose so full again
He pull me aside say what you feel 
He say look me in the eyes if nothin we do is real
But empty empty I say,
Doo Bop jus like thuh play

Ya skin is buttah
I do wrong unda covaz
Ya touch me once and couple more than twice
Do cocaine
Till I rattle my eyes

Silver snake
She call my name
I never pay
When comes cocaine.

I’m in love with white lines more than men. 
But if you touchin me,
I’m touching you again.



Naukie stay silent, can’t contribute conversation.

Oh this white
That numbs my lips. 
She take me down
Like a sunken ship.

Like the lucid dreams that always return. 
I can’t wake up
Until I escape the institutions that burn. 
My mind into empty guilty purity. 
It’s the past brainwash
That keeps on hurting me.

Hurting me, I’ve accepted the truth 
That I’ve overcome, but forever mentally skewed. 
I’m the dark dark that keep you vile when you struttin’. 
Evil power sure does keep me onto somethin’.

But the fucked up beautiful skin that I’m with
Allows me to remember the veracity within.

It’s okay that we love blood and shock value. 
If they uncomfortable,
Then you right with what you do.


Don’t like anything. 
Forever ghost. 
Lives only in dreams.


The last time I felt this way, I wanted to leave the country, and I am glad that I am able to this time.

I remember the last time I came back to Russia, I felt the blanket of home country melt my muscles with ease and placate my anxiety. It’s my culture that has dissipated more and more with age and with my father’s resentment towards the way a Russian woman can break your heart. Since I left, there have been scents that waft over me, and I’m back there for the moment I’m in them. Cigarettes, gasoline, pollution, the evil smell of the subway; they all are home to me. My mother’s friends with yellowed and/or blackened teeth from dirty nights of smoking, booze, and women. The gypsies with their children all playing the same song that gets stuck in your head, and maybe I want to dance and swing in circles when I hear it. The church that my mother was baptized in, and years later, so were my brother and I. But as he drank the blood of Christ, he spat it out, and we have crosses around our necks to commemorate that day. Of course, the man who jumped from the 21st window of our apartment complex. His pearl white face with frozen iced blue eyes so saturated they were beautiful contrasting the river of fresh white crimson blood that swam down the parking lot.
But this time, I’ll have rolls of film and a camera. 
Second cousins to creep through the night with and fill my stomach with toxic vinegar that gives me such a sharpened smirk. 
Velvet wine with my mother. 
And most importantly, time with the family that has given me their blood and given me tha guts that I got.


I am more than the hours drowned by the moon.
I must mend my relationship with the sun.


"Masha, are you having people over tonight?
Just wondering if you were going to be doing a bunch of blow until five am this evening.”

Ugh, how your reputation changes so quickly.


"You might just be weird enough for me to like you."


Bye school, bye America, 
Hello Finland, hello Russia
Bye winter, bye fur
Hello sweat stains, hello I have to shave all the time now

But bye school that killed my creativity and ate up so much of my time that I couldn’t live a healthy life on the side.
And hello and wassup to groovin on that healthy life.


First day of summer, I’m trying really hard to be the happiest boop I can be!


I dreamt last night that I loved someone.
What’s the difference between a heart attack and the way that my chest felt.

Wait wait I watched a boy move, and I imagined it all with his clothes off.
Am I gaining a softness.
Summer is sweet, but I don’t have to be. 
Don’t have to be.

Keep your clothes on.


You’re keeping me as back up. 
But I guess that I’m doing the same.

    Oh, slipped into My accent that slithers
They like my name
But everyone hates the winter

The heat is something that melts flesh into a way we ded
Remember tha white snow
Remember Noses blood red

Oh slipped into
Intentions for skin 
Who am I to 
change for him

Put on ludacris afta Outkast
Shake big booties
put ya on blast

I remembA
Baby days
Ain’t Eva afraid 
I make bad decisions
But, shit, they made

We conversate
But girl, you too much wrongin
Sit with real time
We smackin this bong, and

Cocaine make you dirty 
Scratch scratch itch down to ya toes
He think I’m pretty
But inside words, he dunno

Oh, slipped into
Tha way you groove
Curly hair and Afro
What happened to boop


Also, I cried at a party last night, but that’s a good thing.

Wow just wanna make out my mind will be consumed for a while.


My walk home was a success because I found a beautiful chest of drawers that presented me art supplies, books to read, and spiritual posters.
Earlier, the suppression became something I recognized as a bitter warning. 
I became engulfed and decided release was the only positive way to continue the night without fainting.

And as I let myself finally feel something horrible for once, I was able to receive the funky dance moves that Al Green and James Brown bring to me.
The voodoo rewarded me when he asked me if he could kiss me.
I won’t see him until I return back to America, and that’s how it should be.


Suga Suga

Penetrate your dreams
The way that you dead to me 
I’ve sewn into the seams
Babetown killed ya in your sleep

Tippity toed into your East Village home 
You thought you were Queen B
But you never had a thrown

You’re like mosquitos in the summer
Your actions bite and leave disease 
It’s only when we exile you
That you fall for us on your knees

Mama’s money left you a lonely whore
You can only buy love
If it’s packaged from the store

Go to bed little girl, 
Maybe you’ll wake up a woman one day. 
But I will not be there so see that.
To me, you’ve become withered and decayed.


052014 1:39 am

I’m the only one not doing coke 
I want to rip their chest open and eat their blood
I am
I am
I am so weak
My eyes have become heavy 
I just
It’s my heart that is to explode
And this panic attack is slowly melting into my organs 
I feel like I’m going to die because it has become a need again
I am so glad that I’m running away to Russia to ease this addiction
I’m disappointed in myself because this is the third time I have had to kill the silver snake
They keep going to the bathroom
And I want to eat the whole bathroom
I want it
I want it I just do, but
It isn’t even a high that ends well
It’s the moment
And the ritual
It’s the evil in me that loves the evil in the snake
I’m alone, and they’re all high
I want to eat them all alive
I just have to cry I just need to cry
But this is a thing that I can never do
It is sad that I can only cry when I have a panic attack
The satisfaction is minimal

But I proclaimed to the group
That I mustn’t know
And everyone grew quiet
To hear a babe is addicted to blow 
I think it instilled a fear
And reality of what comes

But she sits next to me
And tells me it’s speedy
Which is unattractive 
But I’m needing, oh

They ask me do I have the bag
I don’t think they remember
We’re used to speaking without thinking together
But I’m only lost in my thoughts
What am I to do
Drink myself to oblivion?

The snake coils around my throat 
I hyperventilate because I can’t breathe
And I become so dizzy
There have been so many times 
That I’ve worried about falling into some form of seizure
Or a heart attack 
My heart used to palpitate every day from her.

Why can’t it last forever
Why can’t cocaine be my only woman
She isn’t loyal to me
But that is love
It brings you anguish and pain 
And addiction in your body any brain
I did this to myself
Fifteen years old
Seven years later
And here I am
Scribbling in my phone
Because I am weak.


I drank myself into oblivion. 
I chain smoked cigarettes as I sat outside with David,
He could tell that I needed him. 
He is the friend that brings me this peace that feels like innocence. 
My panic attack went away as the subway soared above us
And we were just two crazy cats laying against a fence
Talking about how small our problems really are.


Got my mom to admit those places were morbid.



Oh, stumbling on
The train. 
It’s that my body is drunken
As poorly as my brain. 
And as we teeter
From car to car,
I catch myself
Because I’m the dancing star.

I didn’t mean to 
Become vulnerable too quickly. 
It’s your glasses
That creaked when you kissed me.

I can see clearly
That I’m purely a ghost, still. 
As I travel from Finland to Russia
Consuming pretentious pills.

But I don’t want to rhyme anymore
I’m bound to my hometown. 
And the trees, 
They look so different. 
I want to play music so badly. 
I’ve been on the verge of a panic attack twice within three days. 
I think that drinking 
Could take it away. 
Sipping on Finnish vodka. 
Smooth and cold in a fancy little plastic cup. 
To ease my skull 
That keeps me corrupt.

I’ve forgotten the man that used his hand
When he felt that it was necessary to make me understand. 
Tha bodega men, they miss me, they’ve said. 
Without Rumpelstiltskin, I’d find myself dead.

My money flies when fur finds itself inside the same time. 
But I can rely on my mother to buy the wine. 
I need more vodka to retain this frame of mind. 
But cocaine follows me on the planes that I fly.

Can take my stash through security all that I want. 
But crossing Russian borders is where I ought to start. 
The eggy creepy crawls. 
I’m Snarkbottom until I fall.

I’ve got a weakness for being too open. 
But nothing matters if I’m vulnerably closed in. 
You think the mystery is dead. 
But there’s novels that lie underneath the bed.

Momma say that she got some chocolate. 
I say that I gotta get some vodka. 
We argue when to have the next round. 
And I laugh that babulia will smell it on us when we’re in town.

But momma grab my arm, she say “It will smell like family.”


Masturbate in the train bathroom or cry to Amy Winehouse live acoustic.
Anyhow, I’ve crossed the border into Russia.


Fell asleep to Sam Cooke album as the sun shone through my window throughout the whole night.
Woke to the sun tanning my bum, the air here is thick, and the sun shines with strength.



Bubbles swell up inside my throat like an angry whale lost in a cave 
I’ve become a five year old malchik shaking my legs impatient during the Russian ballet 
It’s only been five days, I’m afraid.

It’s not America that I desire, but the folks that can babble along with me. 
It’s always sweet, 
But I’m still alone when with the family. 
I can’t touch myself when my mother in in the same room, so I lay in my sweating bed, can’t even howl to the moon. 
The white nights are when the sun never dies. 
But this carcass baby has regained some form of life.

I’m doing better this time. 
I promise I’ll try to keep it. 
For it’s been my shoulder. 
On which you’ve been leanin’.

Bubbles swell up inside my throat 
Because it’s now the second act, and I need inebriation. 
It’s been hell on stormy boats. 
But I won’t retract the greedy conversations.



I must leave my mind.
To hide inside of my skull, I am swarmed.
If I roll my eyes back into my head,
I become so dizzy that I can think of nothing else.
And the egg whites that hold my vision draw a breath of fresh air that they rarely receive.
If too many words start to bite at me, can not breathe.

And the lack of oxygen slows my vision, slows my vision.
But it’s the cognition that becomes a collision.
I’ve started to regain recognition.

The tender shit that always brings me to the crimes I commit.
It’s that I fuck up, and I slip.
I’m fucking up, so I slip.

It’s the second that I become sweet that I become absolutely barren.
And she’s always writing about how she needin’ love
But it’s the one thing she got to be giving up in order to gain a true form of independence.

No matter where my feet step, one after the other.
I’m anti lover, I’m anti lover
It’s not casual that I am chewing on the lips of another
But when I do, I do it undercover.

It’s the next day that I wake
Where my dimples dive down so deep as if they try to become one with my teeth.
But something changes so quickly, you see.
It’s the time after someone has been kissing me.

Where my eyes turn back into the toxic burning half closed dark dark dirty
Ain’t gonna let you hurt me.
It’s in being alone that I maintain my control.
Naukie fell in love when she was eighteen years old.

And I lost my money
But gained fists and bruises to my face.
My blanket held my bleeding head only to forever carry the stain.
 will never return again.

So she writes poems of love and forever craving of the sweetened touch.
I writhe rhymes about how love is something I’ve given up.